


Poem 53

by highflyer101



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: AU, Gen, M/M, bc i need to feel better about this movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highflyer101/pseuds/highflyer101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Neil Perry didn't commit suicide, not in a literal sense. He simply gave up. He attended military school, went on to Harvard Medical, played the part of the perfect son. And, perhaps more importantly, he left behind the Dead Poets Society for what was meant to be forever.</p><p>That's until he moves to New York and finds himself faced with two choices: he could continue on with his residency and finish what he started, or do what he used to secretly plan: cut himself off from his father and throw himself back into acting. </p><p>The recently reappeared Todd Anderson is pushing for the latter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. I have no idea how active the DPS fandom still is, seeing as I watched the movie like two nights ago and so only recently became obsessed with it, but hopefully some of you are still out there to read/comment on this. I know it might be kind of boring and unclear at the moment but a) I had to write this so badly I was too impatient to properly edit and b) it's just the prologue... things will get better from here, I promise.
> 
> Despite it's (many) flaws, the somewhat mediocre title (check out Emily Dickinson's real Poem 53 if you want it to make sense) not the least of which, I hope you enjoy and I will probably be updating soon!

It took Todd Anderson all of two minutes to puzzle out the various clues and finally figure out what happened. This is still longer than it probably should've taken him.

After all, it was so painstakingly obvious. Neil being shepherded away by his father, Neil mysteriously not returning back to the dorm that night, Neil's things having disappeared when Todd went up to the room after class the next day. Despite seeing for himself the talent that was his son, Mr. Perry had to have put his foot down - Neil must have been gone, shipped off to some other prestigious school where he could not be touched by Keating or his poetry.

The realization, though, was by far the easiest part. After that came the daunting task of continuing as a typical Hellton student with no one to laugh at his rare, feeble jokes; no one to steal glances at his poetry over his shoulder; no one to curl against in the middle of the freezing nights; no one to kiss softly under the cover of darkness. The Poets were friends, even brothers, to Todd, but some small part of him couldn't help but fear that they loved Neil's Todd, not the one that agonized over choosing each and every word before speaking. How could they?

In that respect, though, Todd was lucky. Charlie, Knox, Steven, and Gerard remained steadfast in their friendship, forever dedicated to the great Dead Poets Society. Really, they only seemed to grow closer in the days following the discovery - each of them were bonded by a wretched, overpowering feeling strangely akin to grief, and they suffered through the absence of their best friend together. Keating, too, encouraged them to stick together, but it was only so long until they lost him too.

If you asked Charlie, he would say it was Cameron's fault, and the others would probably agree with him. It was simplest to blame the traitor. Yet Todd couldn't help but channel his resentment toward none other but Mr. Perry. What need would Cameron have to fink if it weren't for him? Why rat out Keating and the Dead Poets Society if an investigation into the unorthodox teaching methods hadn't been demanded by the family of a "troubled" former student? It was simply a case of shooting between the messenger and the one actually at fault - Todd chose the latter.

Regardless of the real criminal, the investigation rolled forward at full speed in the days after Cameron's confession. Students of all classes and grades were being questioned about Keating's inappropriate and overbearing advice, and for the members of the Society, life continued only under the close watch of all trusted teachers, who were quick to report any misdeeds, however minor, to Nolan.

Pressure pulsed through the air surrounding the Poets; tension pulled all their interactions taught. It was hard not to be drowned in resentment for their situation - Neil was gone; Keating was soon-to-be gone - but they did their best to pull through. They exchanged self-deprecating jokes and committed themselves to silence, a silence they swore would go unbroken when the time finally came for each of them to be questioned.

Todd could not know exactly what had happened in his peers' meetings with Nolan, but it would be impossible to forget being the last one to trudge through the heavy oak doors of the headmaster's office and face his parents, each looking painfully disappointed that he'd already managed to tarnish Jeffery's legacy. A sick taste tinged his tongue and he felt the spirits of his friends weighing down on him as he sat in the chair that waited for him. Somewhat predictably, Nolan presented him with a paper smearing Keating's teaching methods and denouncing the activities of the Dead Poets Society. In such instances, this was to be expected. Keating was the scapegoat, of course they'd expect the students' cooperation in dragging him down.

What Todd did not expect, however, were the neatly scrawled signatures at the bottom of the page:

Richard Cameron  
Charlie Dalton  
Steven Meeks  
Gerard Pitts  
Knox Overstreet

And, before them all: Neil Perry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...? The first real chapter will be taking place ten years later so things will get more interesting (and hopefully better written...) then; I just have one question for all of you...
> 
> What college do you all picture for our beloved DPS members? Neil is Harvard bound, but the others... Idk. For Todd I was tossing around the idea of Williams or some other liberal arts school, but I also kind of like Columbia, because New York, except would that be too... well, Welton of him? Any suggestions for any characters would be welcome :)


	2. i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil begins his residency in New York and feels no more at ease than he did at La Salle Military Academy. (That is to say, it's not exactly the time of his life.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update bc I'm very (sorry Keating) impatient and I just have to get this out.

New York has this weird way of being sort of blinding, with its tall buildings and flashing lights and honking horns. Just a little too much, if it makes sense, and Neil vacillates between worshiping the noise and hating it.

He supposes it's one of those things that just takes some getting used to, much like anything else. More out of habit than anything else, he phones his mother and she reminds him, "Well, Neil, you didn't like La Salle at first, did you, and look how well that turned out?"

Her meaning is clear: Neil graduated from La Salle and went to Harvard and then went to Harvard again for his MD (and to his parents, that's the definition of turning out well), but he can't help but think that his forced attendance of military school perhaps isn't the best analogy in this case. Still, it's passable - New York was his choice, sure, but this residency wasn't, so maybe that's how she meant it.

The conversation stops and starts for the next few minutes, his mother mainly prattling about all the nice girls he might meet in the city, until Neil invents an excuse of having to go meet with his new landlord and hangs up. With nothing really to do, he simply leans against the wall of the phone booth and replays his mother's words in his mind. He wonders what she'd do if he told her that he already knows he won't meet any girl he likes, because he can't, never could, never will be able to, not if he tried. Maybe she'd be too scared to even tell his father. Maybe she'd call the police.

It's not the first time the thought has crossed his mind. He's wondered what would happen if he were honest ever since James Burke, a boy only a little younger than he, had been expelled from Welton for homosexuality and his father had sneered and spat, "Faggot." Of course, there were times in his youth when he would look across his room to watch a shy, quiet boy scribbling down poetry with the tip of tongue hanging out of his mouth just the littlest bit, and he considered telling everyone how he felt anyways, because he was in love and it was beautiful and expulsion wouldn't change that, not ever.

That's all behind him, now. For the first few years, his father made certain there would be no contact between Neil and any members of the Dead Poets Society, and as time went by, even trying began to feel futile, because he wasn't their Neil anymore and they probably weren't his Charlie or Knox or Steven or Richard or Gerard or Todd, so what was the point?

Occasionally he pictures their reactions when they saw his name on that contract. He imagines a mix of fury and despair, at varying levels for each of them. All he knows about them now is that Charlie, somehow, ended up at military school like him (not La Salle, of course - the parents wouldn't risk putting their two problem children together again). The rest could have died for all he knows, and even now, that makes this rage bubble up inside him and he wants to punch something but he can't, can't, can't, because it would be meaningless anyways.

Sighing, he shrugs out of his clothes and tugs a nondescript set of scrubs over his head. Residency hours are notoriously difficult, and it would do no good to be late to his first day at New York Presbyterian, a hospital just prestigious enough for his father to approve of. Luckily, his apartment is close enough to the hospital to walk without it taking too much time, and he sets off at a leisurely stroll, intent on inhaling the unforgettable atmosphere of New York.

The air tastes vaguely like smoke and salt, scents Neil can't help but be intrigued by. He remembers a time when his one dream was to make it in this city; to become wildly successful on Broadway and hang around with all the artistic types, his true peers. Sometimes he thinks that still is his dream, but there's no time for plays now. Besides, not having acted in ten years, it's unlikely at best he would get a part anyways.

The looming figure of the hospital pushes his nostalgia aside. Already he can see his fellow residents milling around in the lobby, exchanging idle chitchat and discussing their hopes for the next few years. It's more than a little bittersweet to realize that after four years of medical school, he still can't place himself among these men, and he probably will never be able to. Still, his natural charisma helps him through as it always has. They respond well to his jokes and nod enthusiastically as he tells them about his time about Harvard, what he learned, what he wants to learn.

The head doctor is a solemn old man called Palmer, who makes the tour of the hospital as brief as possible and wastes no time setting his new proteges to work. Neil, along with five other residents, is assigned to general surgery, where a man with Crohn's disease is promptly rolled in and the students are told to unblock his intestine, a task Neil can't help gagging at. His reaction earns him some unimpressed sneers from the snottier doctors, but he's never been able to reconcile himself with changing things around in actual people's bodies, prodding actual organs, and soaking his gloved hands in actual blood. All this does is confirm what he's always known: he's not cut out to be a doctor.

And yet he's forced to spend the next eleven hours of his life slicing strangers open, watching their heart beat steadily as he carves their organs. It's exhausting, to say the least, and the niggling knowledge that this will consume the rest of his life does nothing to comfort him. At the end of the day, it's all he can do to stumble back into fresh air, blinking blearily at the bright lights of the city in summer.

It's only about seven in the evening and already he feels this pit of frustration and despair nestling in his stomach. By now it's familiar to him, just as his reflex reaction to too much blood is familiar, and he lets the pain of his unfulfilling life creep over him. After all these years, the disgust with himself still hits him like a ton of bricks falling on his head one by one. No matter how much he tells himself this is for the best, that his father never would've listened to him anyways and at least this way he'll have a comfortable amount of money, he circles back to his misguided youth. Sometimes he even wishes the Society never existed at all, if only so he wouldn't have the memory of that complete happiness to compare with his current state of depression.

Simultaneously tired and antsy, he shuffles into a coffee shop and throws himself on the couch sitting in the back of the room. A waitress eyes him suspiciously, not-so-subtly putting up a sign that declares only paying customers can stay, and he orders a coffee, despite knowing it will only keep him up and make the next day even harder.

On the long table in front of him sit piles of magazines and fliers, all covering different topics. One brightly colored cover advertises yet another article on John Lennon and Yoko Ono's experience as newlyweds, while another more somber pamphlet promises the best advice on where to invest. Eventually Neil settles on the New Yorker to entertain him, and flips through the various political cartoons with limited interest. Wallowing in his nostalgia, he lingers for a while on the section dedicated to poetry, wondering who in these pages will become great enough to be remembered. There's a few that stand out to him as pieces almost worthy of the Dead Poets Society, and he's about to continue on when something catches his eye.

Below the title of the best poem on the page, in neat block letters, reads the name Todd Anderson. Neil's heart does this peculiar flip type of thing and then he's rereading the poem, burning the words into his mind, worshiping them. He nearly rips the pages of the magazine as he tears through to the final one, where small bios of the poets are given. Unable to help himself, he whispers the words written about his former roommate, former best friend, former lover, to himself, and they feel like water on his parched throat.

'Todd Anderson, 27, is a Columbia graduate now residing in the East Village, New York City. He serves as the co-founder and editor of the literary journal, Carpe Diem, as well as working as a high school English teacher.'

It is, truly, everything anyone could have hoped for Todd and more. Neil wonders if Keating knows that the boy who spun poetry about a sweaty-toothed madman is now published in the New Yorker, and besides that, following in the Captain's footsteps and spreading his love for literature. Formerly ignored memories come sweeping in and Neil wonders if Todd's kept in touch with the others, if they're happy and successful too, and if they've thought of him half as much as he thinks of them. The knot in his stomach tightens and loosens at the same time, if that's possible, and before he knows it, Neil Perry is crying, tears blurring the ink on the page before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, I know nothing about residencies, and I only gave myself a quick education on them via Google, so if I make a mistake about them, feel free to correct me. Also I'm 1000% sure the New Yorker doesn't give bios about the poets but... yay for helping along the plot!!


	3. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knox makes a (probably bad) decision and it leads to something pretty overdue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So there's finally some actual interaction/plot in this chapter lol, and hopefully you guys think everyone's in character! Again, to those of you who commented, kudos-ed, etc. last chapter, thank you so much... This is for you!

Knox is sitting outside the apartment when Todd gets there, which isn't altogether surprising, considering that just a week ago he, in a fanciful fit, quit his job and resolved to live the life of a starving artist - a dream Todd can't help but see as a little problematic, mainly because Knox has never produced any art in his life. Fumbling with his key, Todd doesn't bother to greet his friend, simply waiting for the inevitable outburst.

"It's over, Todd," Knox declares dramatically, breaking the silence. He heaves a sigh and slouches down the wall. "My parents found out."

"Found out?" Todd repeats, pausing momentarily in his struggle to open the door.

"About me quitting," Knox clarifies. "They're furious, of course, because the reason I even got the job in the first place is they're very good friends with the boss there, and now they think I've made them look like they raised a fool for a son." (Here, Todd's tempted to quip that that's not altogether untrue.) "So, I have to go apologize to Mr. Hewling and see if he's still got any room at that stupid law firm of his, and then I have to go back to reading case files and fetching coffee." His nose wrinkles.

In a way, Todd can see the logic behind the Overstreets' thinking: Knox certainly needs a job, so why wouldn't he just take this nice, comfortable position and work his way up to something even more respectable? On the other hand, it's laughable to picture floppy-haired, romantic Knox in a courtroom, yelling at little old ladies over violated parking codes and staring down the jury. And Todd supposes it's the principle of the thing that gets him too; why should Knox just lie down and accept whatever his parents tell him, when he's been out of school for years now?

"Tell your parents 'no'," he suggests simply. Knox jumps up and follows him into his apartment, eyes wide with excitement.

"You think I should?" he breathes. Todd shrugs.

"Why not? I mean, um, you'd have to get a job, you know, eventually, but, why be a lawyer?"

Knox grins childishly wide, practically bouncing on his toes.

"You, Todd, are a genius!" he beams, fists pumping the air. "Of course! Of course I get another job! Why didn't I think of that?"

It's times like these when it's easy to trace the path from Keating's English class to the moment they're in right now. Todd's changed since then, undoubtedly, and more often than not he struggles to remember himself and his friends as they were, round-faced and naive. But it's hard to forget that when Knox is still so oddly excitable and Charlie continues to insist his name is Nuwanda, and Meeks and Pitts fiddle with various gadgets, 'improving' them. The nostalgia settles in his belly, rubbing against the uncomfortable reminder that a key player is missing in this evolution.

"What should I be?" Knox murmurs, not expecting a response. "Maybe I'll take up painting. Or, or- I don't know, learn the guitar or something!"

"Yeah, and start a jazz band with Nuwanda?" Todd teases, collapsing onto his couch. "Speaking of which, why aren't you unburdening yourself to him right now?" Knox frowns.

"Todd, as usual, you've sold yourself short. Despite Nuwanda being, well, Nuwanda, you remain the ultimate source on the life of a true bohemian, Mr. Editor." He pauses and cocks his head. "Also, being that you have far shorter hours than a banker, it was significantly more likely you'd be there to let me in."

"You know, there's this thing people do called 'calling' before they just appear at someone's apartment," Todd laughs. Knox turns solemn.

"That's another thing, Toddie," he says seriously. "The new job idea is all well and good, but where will I live?" Todd's about to point out that a) Knox has a perfectly good apartment and b) this new found concern should have been more of a concern when his plan was to just go without a job, but then he notices that his friend is not-so-subtly eying the room recently vacated by Todd's last roommate. He sighs heavily.

"If you want the room, you should really just say it, Knox."

"Oh, but I had a feeling you'd catch on!" He skips around the room gleefully, examining the various photos tacked onto the wall. Somewhat belatedly, he wonders, "So I can have it, right?" and Todd just nods, figuring it'll save him the trouble of conducting horribly awkward interviews in search of a new roommate.

Knox's excited whoops still ringing in his ears, he finds himself lugging boxes out of an Upper West Side apartment building in the middle of July heat. Charlie and Steven have been called in specially for the occasion, and Pitts would have been invited had he not moved to DC a week ago for some fancy engineering job. By noon, Knox's wardrobe full of nice button-downs handpicked by his mother has just barely been packed away and all of them are dripping sweat, aside from Charlie, who early in the day declared himself 'supervisor' and took a seat on the floor.

"So, are you two queer for each other or something now?" Charlie drawls. Knox responds rather dreamily that actually, he's working on getting this one secretary at his old office to go out with him, and Todd characteristically sputters and pants before answering that having a thing for Knox would be like having a thing for his brother. (He doesn't think Charlie misses that he didn't mention anything about having a thing for boys, period.)

Charlie's gratuitously big car is parked only a little ways away, ready to carry the various boxes down to the East Village, and the entire crew hoists up some luggage to begin the trek. The first set of stuff is thrown haphazardly into the trunk and they start back on their way to the apartment.

The fact is, the day's simply too hot for them to be really focusing on what they're doing. Jokes are thrown at each other lazily and occasionally someone will stop in the middle of the sidewalk and declare themselves too tired to go on before they're pushed into movement by the rest. Steven's glasses keep fogging up and before they can be wiped off, Charlie whips them off and doodles in the glass, the way kids do when they're in the car for too long when it rains, and condensation gathers on the window.

When it happens, he's too busy making sure Meeks doesn't get them back to pay attention to where he's going. Steven halfheartedly grunts, "Knock it off, will you?" and it kind of looks like half of Knox face is smiling and the other half is rolling its eyes like its above it all, and then the glasses drop to the ground without warning and, much to Steven's dismay, crack down the middle of one lens.

"What the hell?" Steven whines. Charlie ignores him.

"Holy shit," he says instead. "It's Neil!"

Despite himself, Todd's heart starts stuttering a little too fast and he's pretty sure it's gonna burst if it keeps going like this. It's not Neil, of course it's not Neil, and he wants to say that but he's having some trouble finding the words - not because he's got some weird obsession with his high school boyfriend or anything, but because he really doesn't do very well with surprises and this is a surprise if ever there was one. Knox follows Charlie's gaze quizzically and Steven shakes his head.

"It's not Neil," he says, sounding rather sure of himself. "And you better be ready to pay to fix these, asshole."

"Yeah, yeah," Charlie says dismissively, and then he's opening his mouth wide and bellowing, "NEIL! NEIL PERRY!" 

Passerbys are definitely staring now, some annoyed at the disruption of their peaceful Saturday strolls and some just curious. One man in scrubs, however, is turning around kind of slowly, like he might be faced with a gunman or something, and for a split second Todd makes eye contact and-

Holy shit. It's Neil.


	4. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of catching up to do. Predictably, Neil's job ruins it.

There's a moment of disconnect when Neil sees them, as if in a bad movie. Like, yes, they're there, but what does it matter to him? What could they mean to each other, after all this time has passed?

Then, of course, the freight train of his emotions hits him and feelings pass through him like ghosts. He mentally examines each and every one of his old friends, eyes wide so he doesn't risk missing anything, mind whirring with questions.

It occurs to him that maybe he should be saying something to break this weird silence that's come over them, but just as quickly he wonders if maybe it hasn't been quiet so long, maybe that's just his mind stretching this single moment. Besides, people have always praised him for being charming and likable, but there's no easy conversation starter here and he thinks that maybe he's just a little bit out of his depth.

"You motherfucker," Charlie howls, smirking. "You're a doctor! You're actually a doctor!"

"Well, I'm an intern if you wanna put it technically," he mutters, and Charlie is overflowing with laughter. Next to him, Knox stands slack-jawed, and Steven inches forward, extending a hand that seems a little too formal, but maybe not, considering they haven't seen each other in ten years.

"It's good to see you, Neil," he says and they shake hands heartily.

"Good?" Charlie barks. "You serious, Meeks? It's not just good! Christ, it's a fucking miracle!"

Without realizing it, Neil finds himself being lead into an apartment building in front of them, practically dragged up the stairs and into a near-empty room. From the chattering around him, he infers it belongs to Knox, or at least it did, and in a few hours, it'll be forgotten forever.

"Well, before I quit my job, you see, I could afford a big place like this. But then, I figured, if I'm not doing what I love, what's the point of anything at all? Carpe diem, right?" The words chafe uncomfortably against Neil's skin but Knox remains oblivious. He blabs on about finding himself and finding his passion like it's all irrelevant to the other people in the room, like it's not something they haven't thought or struggled with before, and through no fault of his own, it gets a bit nauseating to listen to.

"What about you, Neil?" Todd asks quietly - though more steadily than he used to speak. Knox whips his head around, as if amazed that someone would interrupt his stream of consciousness, especially Todd. "What are you doing?" Neil coughs and clears his throat.

"Oh, I went to Harvard, got my MD. Now I'm just in the life saving business." The joke, stolen from a professor in his first year of medical school, falls flat, and Todd just bobs his head awkwardly in response. Neil adds, "By the way, I saw your poem in the New Yorker, the other day. It was amazing." At this, Todd's head jerks up and his eyes widen and his cheeks turn a familiar shade of crimson, the way they used to when he was embarrassed (which was pretty much always).

The others, too, are paying more attention now, cocking their heads and furrowing their brows, and Neil catches on a bit too late that Todd never told anybody about the poem in the New Yorker, of course he wouldn't. There's a clamor as they all move to congratulate their friend, patting him on the back or ruffling his hair affectionately. Out of nowhere this thought pops up to Neil that he's lost his place in all this, and he lost it when he told his father, "Nothing," and again when he kept silent the whole car ride to military school. It's the kind of sad nostalgia that plagues him regularly, but it's so much more poignant when he's sitting there with them and watching them act like not a day has passed since Welton while all he can do is watch.

"I hardly feel like I'm worthy to live with you now, Walt Junior," Knox grins. Like most things occurring in the past hour, it stings Neil a little to see it, although it of course makes sense for two school friends to move in together when one has a spare room. He pushes the niggling sorrow away and smiles, genuinely glad to be sitting on the floor with these people at this moment.

"It's incredible," Neil insists. "You all really should read it." Todd fidgets uncomfortable.

"You don't have to," he mumbles.

"And just for that, Todd, I'm going to buy a copy of this New Yorker magazine and read this poem aloud to all the people in this room," Charlie announces.  
"Oh, come on, Nuwanda," Todd tries to protest but he's decidedly ignored. Neil grins at him. 

"You should be really proud of yourself, Todd," he says. Todd fidgets with the hem of his shirt.  
"Yeah, um, I guess."

The thought that they were ever more than friends seems weirdly alien now, when Todd's hardly looking at him and Neil is acting like some mix between supportive parent and kind teacher. The tension is undeniable, only magnified by the other people in the room and the fact that even if they wanted to talk like they used to, they can't with this audience around.

It has, of course, occurred to Neil that maybe Todd genuinely has no interest in him anymore. To wait ten years for someone you know for three months is a little excessive, bordering on creepy. But there's also this feeling that that logic doesn't apply here. It's not like Neil's been wasting his days pining or barring himself from having fun, and from the looks of it, Todd hasn't either. It's only now when they're sitting two feet away that he feels like they could still be together, just like the rest of the Dead Poets Society are still together as friends. And yeah, maybe some of that is misplaced nostalgia, but that doesn't make everything happening any less real.

The afternoon carries on and Neil carefully categorizes all the information he's receiving about what he missed. It's a blurry picture, but a picture nonetheless, and he runs through each one's accomplishments methodically.

Charlie was expelled from Welton, sent to military school, but he already knew that. The new news is that he went on to Dartmouth for a degree in economics - of course, that's not to say he ever had any real interest in the subject, nor did he excel in any of his classes. Still, he got a job at some hedge fund and now lives happily in a fancy apartment with plenty of support from his parents, both pleasantly surprised at his chosen path. He explains this almost offensively Welton-ish path easily: "Look, I'm getting a ton of money, and I don't do shit. I sit there and press buttons and spend other people's money. So, what the hell? I act like a functional member of society for a few hours a day, and then I have the rest of my time to do whatever the fuck I want."

Steven, on the other hand, found his dream school in Yale, where he split his time between studying the classics and engineering. Now he has some fancy, chemistry-related job that Neil doesn't have the energy to try to understand. He shares that Pitts went with him to Yale (the memory of him commenting to Gloria that he might go to Yale, or might not, rises unbidden in Neil's mind) and also majored in engineering. The difference is Pitts is now developing some new technology in Washington D.C, explaining his absence.

Knox's situation has already been discussed. The only new thing Neil learns is that he went to Duke following a generous donation in his father's name to the law program and then came back up north to Yale for grad school. One can't help thinking that it's an awfully good education to waste on being... whatever Knox plans to be.

Todd's story is mostly only a confirmation of what he saw in the New Yorker. He somewhat satisfied his parents by going to an Ivy League school, only to disappoint them and become a writer and teacher. The first part, Neil understands perfectly. He always knew that Todd would eventually be a successful writer and do Keating proud. The second position, however, is a little harder to picture. There aren't a ton of teachers who can hardly even talk, though Neil refrains from mentioning this. In any event, it's a good life for him, even if it alienated him even further from his family, particularly because, as Charlie points out, it has the major benefit of regular vacations.

The ringing of a clock reminds Neil that when he's on for the night shift tonight at the hospital, meaning he was supposed to spend his free hours sleeping. Any laziness on his part certainly won't be appreciated or excused by his superiors, who are totally comfortable asking the interns to sacrifice their social life and spend all waking hours watching over sick patients.

Knox is just suggesting that he comes down to the apartment in the East Village with them when he announces that he has to leave. The group moans their protest in nearly perfect unison and they all exchange numbers. Everyone insists they all have to meet up again and Neil doesn't bother telling them that while that sounds great and everything, he's got like two minutes of free time a week and that's usually reserved for sleeping. Instead, he walks with them all to the parking garage, even carrying a few of Knox's boxes for them, reminds them to find that New Yorker magazine, and heads back to reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So everybody... Hope you liked it! Thanks again to my lovely comment-ers, bookmark-ers, and kudos-ers; you make my day 1000% of the time. This is your official warning that I'm starting junior year of high school tomorrow (aka hell), so while I'll definitely be continuing, the updates might slow down the littlest bit. Not too much though, because I'm still obsessed with this story, even if I don't really know what the actual plot even is lol.


	5. iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd's typical day gets not-so-typical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my loves, sorry for the wait. As I said on tumblr (if you don't already follow me, you can find me at challengedbyreality.tumblr.com), junior year started and it's a hell of a lot to deal with, and also there's some personal drama which, if you're really interested, I talk about some in the note at the end, bc you all are my new outlet. I love you guys for reading and hope you enjoy!

Todd wakes up early, even though summer means he's not teaching today and he has nowhere to be until four o'clock, when there's a staff meeting for Carpe Diem. To a certain extent, it's just habit, but there's also some whimsical part of him that likes to watch sleepy New Yorkers mull about the city streets, illuminated by the soft glow of morning sun. Nowadays, there's also the fact that Knox is still passed out in his bed, providing some rare and cherished silence.

That's not to say that the week since he moved in hasn't been fine. It's a nice reminder of old times and he's a perfectly good roommate. The thing is, Todd isn't the type of person who's constantly moving, and even if his brain is continually churning out new ideas, he's never been one to put them into words the second they pop up. Knox, on the other hand, has a habit of blurting out nearly everything that comes to mind, which is fine, really; it just means that sometimes his mood swings and babbling can be more than a little exhausting.

So, Todd makes a habit of taking advantage of this time. He strolls out of the apartment into the vaguely grimy streets and breathes in the familiar taste of car exhaust fumes and soft pretzels. Only a few people are out now: it's too late for those with real jobs to be leaving, and it's too early for the unemployed to slither out of bed. A smattering of street vendors arrange homemade pastries in special displays and Todd stops briefly to buy a coffee before continuing on his way.

It's easy to feel small in a city like New York. Most people say it's lonely, even frightening, walking amongst the rows of skyscrapers and offices. But ever since he first arrived, Todd's welcomed the anonymity the streets offer him. For once, no one expects him to speak up or go out of his way to be significant. The people around him have no idea if he's talented or funny or charismatic, and chances are they don't care either way. They have their own lives to be thinking about. And even if his confidence has grown tremendously since high school, he still cherishes the thought that he could fail at any number of things and he would still be allowed to walk with the tons of other souls that call the city home.

He mentally makes notes about the things he sees, allowing the phrases to drift through his mind listlessly. Maybe one day he'll put them into a poem, or maybe they'll simply fall away. It really doesn't matter, and frankly, he doesn't have the energy to care about things as silly and simple as that. The future will come when it comes.

There's no way of telling how much time he's wasted while walking through the East Village at a snail's pace, but he figures that at this point, Knox is probably up and ready to launch into whatever new plan he's concocted in his sleep. Todd leisurely makes his way back home, winding through back alleys and side streets, searching for a new perspective in a place he's practically memorized. When he finally gets back, the day is in full swing: people are bustling about the streets, jacket sleeves rolled up in a futile attempt to avoid the blazing hot.  
Inside the apartment, Knox still wears nothing but a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He's sipping coffee and wincing periodically - he never really was good at waiting for it to cool. Beside him sits Neil.

Todd barely has time to be confused before the situation is being explained to him. It's Neil's day off, he was bored, he called, Knox invited him down. Now that all three are in the kitchen, an awkward silence ensues.

It's not like Todd has a problem with Neil being there, quite the opposite, really. There's just nothing much he has to say that doesn't go uncomfortably below surface level. What he wants to do is launch into a lengthy conversation about whatever the fuck Neil thinks he's doing with this med school thing and why and how and when did he decide to give up. But as deeply as he feels these things, he doesn't exactly have a reason to, or a right to say them, when they haven't spoken in ten years and he never made any effort to find him.

"Hi," Neil says easily, grinning. It probably isn't as simple as it looks for him to act so chipper about everything when it's pretty clearly wrong, but it still bothers Todd. He's come to value honesty above nearly everything else, and here's the person who was once more important than anything else in his world, living a lie.

He shrugs and grunts a greeting. He doesn't remember being this agitated by it when they saw each other at Knox's old apartment, and he doesn't have time to puzzle through why that is. Instead, he just lets his frustration simmer, too antsy to voice it properly.

Knox chatters for a while about the soul-searching he's been doing these days, and it's easy to tell that no one is really invested in the conversation except him. Todd is focused on not focusing on Neil, and Neil is too busy staring at Todd semi-creepily to pay proper attention. Eventually, the general disinterest in talking becomes clear.

"I- um, have to go," Todd announces after a while, breaking the weird pattern of silence and then halfhearted small talk and then more silence. He stands abruptly, not bothering to explain where he's going. By now, Knox is familiar with his routine and wastes no time filling Neil in.

"Todd and some of his Columbia friends started this student-run literary magazine called Carpe Diem, you know, like from Keating" - Neil mentions that he already knows this from the poem in the New Yorker but Knox doesn't stop - "and they kept it going after they graduated. They have meetings all the time. I don't think his literary buddies like me very much, though. They're real bohemian types, you know?"

Todd interjects with a fairly cold goodbye and is all set to go back out when Neil has to go ahead and make things more uncomfortable than they already are. It's just three words, three harmless words, but immediately the air is charged with this tension, because of course there's no real way to say no, but also he can't exactly tell him yes either, and these are not the kind of situations Todd deals well with.

Three words. That's all. Three little words.

"Can I come?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... What did you think? It's a filler chapter, I know, and I was kind of in a bad place when I wrote it, so idk how good it is.
> 
> Speaking of the bad place, as promised, here's my rant about my personal life: This girl in my group of friends invited 55/77 people in our grade to her sweet 16, including all my best friends, and told no one to tell me because then I might want to come. Obviously I found out, but it was fine because she and I never really got along that well and we have a bit of a history and frankly I don't like her. But what's frustrating is my best friends live kind of far from me, so I'm missing one of my rare opportunities to hang out with them outside of school tonight and it's kind of shit. Plus, back to our 'history' together, she basically tried to start a fight between me and these two girls last year, and afterwards they said they'd never look at her the same again, blah blah blah. Yet she didn't apologize to any of us, and they're still close as ever. I know it's immature to say, but I feel like they were my friends first and as much as I don't want this girl to be totally friendless (she's not very popular) or my friends to spend their lives bitter and not forgiving her, it's frustrating. Also I'm stressed bc I do speech and debate and I have a big tournament next weekend and my coach is super disorganized, and I'm waiting for the cast list for the school play to come out, and I'm starting my new job Wednesday, and basically it's just a lot.
> 
> That being said, I can't guarantee when the next update will be. I actually don't have too much work this weekend so I'm gonna try and get ahead a little bit, but even if I finish a chapter I'll probably save it for a little while so it's not like two chapters in one day and then no chapters for two weeks. Still, I think the next chapter should be pretty interesting... Neil and Todd... alone... with Todd's Columbia friends... Guess we'll have to see what happens, huh?


	6. v

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil and Todd have some one-on-one time. It's awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I even say anything, I am SO SO SO SO sorry for the unbelievable wait. I honestly kind of lost motivation with all the junior year stuff going on, but with winter break on the way, I'll hopefully be back to semi-regular updates. Please see the end notes for more details on that plan and also for some general stuff I wanna tell you bc it relates to DPS and I need to talk about it to SOMEONE.
> 
> P.S. Sorry this is short and kind of shitty.

So, it's quickly becoming obvious to Neil that Todd really didn't want him to come at all.

He's not sure why - as much as they've grown apart, the whole ten year separation thing also means there's not really anything to be mad at each other about. But anger is rolling off Todd in passive aggressive waves and it's making their walk more than a little awkward. Conversation between them is halting and forced, even more so than when he'd refuse to talk at all.

"So, Columbia, huh?" Neil prompts, grasping at straws. "How'd that happen?" Todd shrugs.

"Well, I liked it and I got in."

"Well, yeah, but, what I meant was, what _made_ you like it? I'm curious."

"What made you like being a doctor?"

"C'mon, you know that's different." Neil laughs like it's funny, but it comes out strained and uncomfortable. His mind whispers that his life is the real joke - there's nothing funny about this moment or Todd's anger, but in the grand scheme of things, Neil Perry becoming a doctor is pretty ridiculous.

"I guess so." Neil thinks they've dropped the topic as a small silence ensues, but (surprisingly) the quiet doesn't last long. In a unique turn of events, Todd blurts, "It's really not, though." He stops short after that and, for a second, Neil thinks he's heard him wrong. But once again, the words keep flowing.

"I mean, you had a choice. After - after everything you did, you - you just... gave up. And..." His speech is disjointed and sputtering, but Neil's not about to interrupt because it's not every day when Todd Anderson speaks his mind. Or, at least, it didn't use to be. Anyways, Todd is still struggling to get the words out and as much as Neil knows it's something he doesn't want of hear, he also kind of _does_ (want to hear it, that is). But the moment passes and Todd finally gives up with nothing but a, "Whatever."

They walk on in a silence sizzling with things unsaid, neither one particularly keen to break it. Todd's stewing, but Neil is thinking. He's remembering the day he brought the flyer for A Midsummer Night's Dream into the dorm room and how frustrated he was to hear his roommate's reaction. It's an odd role reversal to suddenly be the one that refuses to think outside the box, refuses to dream, no matter how much he tells himself that living this way is a necessary evil. Because maybe Todd's right, maybe it's _not,_ and Neil's just been too cowardly to consider it.

Eventually Todd lets them in to a warehouse-looking building and they're greeted by a tall girl with a middle part in her long, blonde hair. Her paisley dress swishes across the floor when she walks and her eyes dance kind of star-like in her head. Basically, she's a hippie, and it's not surprising given the various anti-war posters scattering the walls. Todd mumbles something like a hello to her - apparently his social skills haven't improved that much - and keeps walking.

He picks up the first of a stack of papers and collapses down into a seat, ignoring the twenty or so other people in the room and focusing on the piece in front of him. Neil watches him (only semi-creepily) and wonders what exactly he's thinking and who forked over the cash to pay for a big place like this. It certainly wasn't Todd; his family would never sponsor such a seemingly meaningless pastime. Maybe some of these other bohemian-types were secretly sitting on piles of cash. Maybe they'd just gotten to be fully functioning adults with mostly stable finances.

In any event, Neil thinks it's all kind of funny, watching Todd's nose crinkle up as he comes upon something he doesn't quite like and then cast the paper aside indifferently. Because he's not indifferent at all; in fact, there's something sort of loving about the way he writes long, detailed notes in the margins and sets everything down in it's rightful place. What he's doing clearly means something to him, and that's not just beautiful but also vaguely inspiring, because it's easy to forget that there _are_ people out there who are happy.

It's a long, awkward time watching Todd go through all those papers, and that's without the curious stares of the other workers on his back, but Neil doesn't feel like he can leave after inviting himself along. He waits patiently, keeping to himself until a short, chubby guy with browline glasses taps him on the shoulder somewhat aggressively and demands, "Do you work here now?" Neil's all set to explain everything about this morning and he opens his mouth to do so, but he doesn't quite get a chance to finish.

"Look, I don't really give a shit. The point is, if you could quit sitting here like an idiot while the rest of us are actually trying to get something done, that would be great." At this point, he can't quite think of anything appropriate to say in response, and he's torn between apologizing and standing his ground. He's saved, though, because apparently the commotion has not escaped Todd's notice.

"Hey, Scott, calm down," he calls. "He came with me." The guy with the glasses - Scott, Neil now knows - sniffs and curls his upper lip a bit.

"Well, sorry, Anderson. I didn't realize that we were running a zoo around here. You know, we're not just for people to sit around and gawk at. We're a _serious_ publication." Todd rolls his eyes like this is something they've been through before and runs a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, well, he asked to come, and he's here, so you might as well deal with it," he mutters, frustration evident in his tone. "Anyways, I read through these short stories, and I put the ones I like over here."

"Thanks for that, then." Scott gives a cursory glance at the approved stack and accepts the changes almost immediately. Some worker bee whisks the papers away from him to start typing up and Scott instantly relaxes. With a deep sigh, he flops into a chair next to Todd and rolls his head back dramatically. In a way, it reminds Neil of Charlie - all movements and emotions are big and dramatic. But on the other hand, Scott's way too uptight and, well, asshole-y to be anything like Nuwanda, and besides, Todd's still friends with the real thing, so he doesn't need a replacement. That, coupled with their comfort with each other, would imply that somehow, Todd genuinely likes this guy, or at least respects him, and that doesn't sit quite right.

Neil guesses that he has to accept that his high school friends were never limited to only each other. They are, and always were, allowed to branch out and meet new people; that was the point of the Dead Poets Society in the first place. He supposes the jealousy and confusion he feels now is simply worsened by his own unhappiness: maybe if he had found a new circle of friends that he enjoyed despite their flaws, he wouldn't mind so much seeing others do the same.

At this point, Neil's bored with his own thoughts. He feels like he's been circling the same idea ever since the impromptu reunion: things have changed, he misses the past, he doesn't want to be alone, he is anyways. Running through his emotions over and over again does nothing but make him feel whiny and sad, so he resolves to abandon the train of thought.

On the way back, Todd tells Neil that he and Scott were roommates at Columbia and were sort of forced into being friends. He concedes that he's bossy and rude, but also insists that he's an okay person, and certainly a good co-editor. Neil does a good job of pretending like he wouldn't dream of disliking Scott, and Todd rolls his eyes. Apparently, out of the people who've met him, Knox and Charlie both hate him, and Meeks merely tolerates him.

Eventually, Neil decides to peel off and head back up town to his own apartment rather than go back and see Knox again. It's summer, so the sky is still light and the sun's still out, but it feels late, particularly when he thinks about his 3:00 shift the next morning. He comments on how badly he hates the whole thing as they say goodbye, not remembering their earlier spat until it's too late. He wonders if Todd is going to make another attempt to lecture him, and watches as his face contorts with about a million emotions.

"You know, Neil," he says before he walks away. "No one's making you a martyr but yourself."

Neil isn't sure if he knows what that means.

He doesn't think he wants to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... kind of short, but at least it's up! Now, for everything I want to tell you.
> 
> For my birthday, my best friend gave me a leather bound journal with the "that you might contribute a verse" speech written inside and it's beautiful.
> 
> If you follow my fan tumblr (challengedbyreality.tumblr.com), you know that I'm also super into Vampire Weekend, and their songs are kind of poetic, which I love, and basically I had a dream that instead of Vampire Weekend, it was the Dead Poets Society, and Todd wrote the songs and Neil sang them and everything was lovely. I now want to write that AU. 
> 
> ALSO, in terms of inspiration for this long, long overdue chapter, I found the BEST WEBSITE! It's called antiromantic.com, and it's specifically dedicated to analyzing DPS characters, scenes, and even the poetry referenced/recited in the movie. It was really helpful to get back into this story, and I highly recommend you check it out if you write for DPS, or even if you don't. 
> 
> On the same note, I rediscovered one of my favorite ever short stories the other day, 'Good Old Neon' by David Foster Wallace. It's about a guy who spends his life trying to please people and worrying about their perception of him instead of figuring out his own, real personality, who later commits suicide (that's not a spoiler). Sound like anyone we know? To add to all that, THE MAIN CHARACTER'S NAME IS NEAL. Anyways, I thought that was mildly heartbreaking. Also, please read 'Good Old Neon' if you haven't, because it's perfect and I keep saying things are beautiful but this really, really is, so check it out. 
> 
> PLAN FOR UPDATES: Unclear. For the next three weeks, I should have a lot of free time, so I'm going to attempt to update rapid fire and get a lot out there. After that, I honestly don't know bc SATs and stuff. So, please, continue to bear with me, and thanks a billion for your patience. Love you all <3


	7. vi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is made. Todd doesn't think it's a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whattttt, two updates in two days??? I know, this is crazy, right???

It's a few days later, and Todd realizes that he's forgotten to call his mother in, well, he doesn't know exactly how long it's been. That just drives home the point, really, because he's not the perfect son but she's still a good mother and she worries almost as easily as he does, so the least he could do is keep in touch.

Guilt fresh in his mind, he picks up the shiny new phone (courtesy of Knox) and dials the numbers to his old, New Hampshire home, which lurks in his memory, always blurry and yet somehow sharp. He remembers living there like he remembers believing in Santa: he knows it happened and he can fixate on several key moments during that period of his life, but the thought of going to that place again feels alien. Still, his parents are always encouraging him to come back so they can have a nice chat about the future and steer him back onto a more stable, respectable path. Or maybe that really just want to see him. He doesn't know which one is worse.

 

Mrs. Carol Anderson picks up on the second ring and squeals when Todd tells her who it is. She asks about what he's been eating and if he's got enough clothes, and generally avoids any serious topics. He's grateful, despite knowing that it's temporary. He tells her how Knox has moved in, and she responds that that's nice. Eventually, the small talk runs out and they're left with nothing but the elephant in the room.

 

"So, sweetie," she begins, sounding almost timid. "Tell me about what you've been doing lately. I know you... don't have a job, at the moment."

 

"I do have a job - I'm a teacher." He does a good job of sounding patient and collected, but it still makes him squirm to butt heads with his parents like this. They were never like Neil's or anything; they do their best to understand, but to them, his 'lifestyle' is inexplicable.

 

"Well, yes, of course, but- well. You know what I mean, dear. With, with summer and all, I know you have quite a bit of free time, and your father and I were wondering if you'd considered... branching out at all." She sounds so earnest that it's difficult to be offended. Todd feels bad about it sometimes, because he knows that he hasn't followed his older brother's patterns and that makes them uncomfortable. He doesn't mean to make things more difficult than they need to be for them, honestly, but, in a selfish way, it's worth it. He's happy with his life, and he wouldn't be if he tried to be noble like Neil, that's for sure.

 

That thought distracts him. As he answers his mother how he's always answered her ("I'm still working on the magazine with Scott", "It's gonna be September soon, anyways", etc.), he thinks about Neil and what it's like when _he_ talks to his parents on the phone. His lies seem too big to fit through the phone cord and Todd wonders if his mother or father have ever caught on to the fact that he's not all that happy and then really thought about that, sat down and took the time to digest it, and then still decided that it's all for the best. Probably not. It's very saddening, of course, to imagine, and Todd feels irrationally angry at them for being so cruel, but it still isn't reason for Neil to just give up. Not to him, anyways.

 

He guesses that what's most frustrating about the whole situation is that he still associates Neil with being a figurehead. When he looks at him, he still sees the boy running around the dorm room yelling about passion and honesty, and he still sees someone who was an inspiration to him. Perhaps subconsciously, he's been trying to do the Neil-type thing to do this whole time, and now he sees that the _real_ Neil-type thing to do is nothing, and that's kind of disappointing.

All this passes through his mind in half the time it takes to blink, and he slips back into his conversation. The next big, awkward topic is Jeffrey, and Jeffrey's wife and kid, who are living at the Anderson household while their father does the honorable thing and fights for his country. Todd and Jeff have always gotten along okay, so it shouldn't be as weird as it is to talk about him, but some recent disagreements make it hard.

Namely, Jeff went to war. And he wasn't drafted - if he was drafted, Todd would get it. But he _volunteered_ to go kill innocent civilians and that's fucked up to Todd, that's all. So he said something about it last Christmas, because he couldn't live with himself if he didn't, and the whole thing blew up. Jeffrey was yelling, and the baby was crying - that's another thing, Jeff left his wife alone to care for this little, tiny kid - and then their father got involved, and Todd's anxiety started to kick in. The night ended sourly, with Todd trying not to show that he was struggling a bit for breath, and Jeffrey storming out, family in tow.

"Jeff wants me to tell you that he really wishes you would write," Mrs. Anderson hints. It's unclear whether that's true, or whether she just wants peace between her sons. Either way, it's not happening.

"Okay, mother," Todd responds mildly. He wouldn't take his anger out on her for all the money in the world. They're close, or he likes to think they are, despite the colossal difference in their priorities.

Over the phone, he hears a door slam and his dad hollers that he's home. Of course, it's only a matter of time before he's called to the phone and asked to talk to Todd.

"Hello, son," he says gruffly by way of greeting.

"Hi, Dad."

"Still liking the big city?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Oh, well. That's alright, I suppose."

There's a pause. Todd got his unnatural tendency to worry over little things from his mother, but he got dislike for small talk from his dad. While mostly harmless, Mr. Anderson has never shown any outpouring of love for his younger son. In fact, he was maybe a little on the mean side until everything happened with the Dead Poets Society, and the school brought in experts, all of whom advised Todd's parents to be cautious and told them what they already knew: he was "fragile" and "odd." In many ways, this saved their relationship. Carol made Dennis back off the slightest bit and there was one less person in Todd's life reminding him how much his organs would be worth on the black market. But in equally many ways, they were ruined for good. At least when Dennis was saying all that morbid stuff to him, he was being honest. Now, there's just the unspoken worry that Todd's gonna go flying off the handle and enter an intense downwards spiral if anyone ever pokes him the wrong way.

The door opens, and Charlie and Steven come trailing after Knox because why would they ask before coming over? They see him on the phone and make a big show about tiptoeing in and shushing each other when they make any noise. Todd sort of has to laugh at that, and he says something about having to go before he hangs up.

"So, Toddy, how're the parental units doing today?" Charlie asks, helping himself to whatever is in the fridge before he sits down. "Still think you're bonkers?"

"Well, at least your parents _know_ you are," Todd quips.

"Original. Very creative. Definitely worthy of a poet like yourself," Charlie says.

"I bought milk!" Knox chimes in out of the blue, hoisting up a grocery bag.

"How domestic," Nuwanda croons. "The two of you make a beautiful couple, really, but I didn't come to discuss your personal lives; I came to discuss someone else's. And, before you ask, _no,_ I'm not referring to Steven's continued failure to lose his virginity."

"Ha ha. I've definitely never heard that one before," Meeks deadpans from the couch.

"Hey, if the shoe fits..." Charlie dodges an actual shoe, which Meeks has just launched across the room, and continues. "What I was saying is, I am seriously bothered by our latest encounter with Neil Perry. It was depressing, frankly."

"Really? You seemed pretty enthusiastic about the whole thing."

"Well, that was before I found out he wasted his life being a _doctor_ just because his daddy told him to."

"Charlie, why did you decide to go into banking, again?" Todd agrees with him on principle, but the issue here seems to obvious to point out.

"Ah, but that's different, Todd. In _my_ profession, however shitty it may be, I can continue to have an actual life on the side. Doctors, on the other hand, cannot. And we can't have that for our Neil, can we?"

"No, sir," Knox affirms loyally, grinning because he can sense that Charlie's about to unwind some awesome plan that will undoubtedly make things revert to the way they used to be and the way everyone wants them to be. Todd hates to burst their bubble, he really does, but he feels some kind of duty to.

"I think you may be overestimating our influence in Neil's life," he suggests. Knox leaps up.

"Or you're _underestimating_ it. He spent his day off with you, didn't he?"

  
_"Did_ he?" Charlie cocks his head and examines Todd. "I'll try not to be offended that I wasn't paid a visit."

"Hey, get over yourself, Charlie," Todd laughs uncomfortably, squirming under his fixed gaze.

"Oh, I'm not anywhere near doing that, Todd. In fact, I'm feeling a bit _under_ the weather." He pauses for dramatic effect and Todd is already bracing himself for what's coming. "I guess it's a good thing that I know a certain doctor _quite_ well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that, since I definitely enjoy writing Todd more than I do Neil. (Not that I don't love them both, of course.) Anyway, I'm not 100% sure where the plot is going, but I figure that it'll come around naturally, so for now, I'm gonna keep churning out chapters while I can.


	8. vii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie pays the good doctor a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today I am reading Infinite Jest and feeling very much like I wish I was able to write like DFW, but also very thankful that I am not as painfully sad as he must have been. That being said, enjoy the chapter!

Neil literally has his hands up a patient's ass when Molly, a receptionist sneaks in and whispers something to Palmer, who frowns and mutters something that makes her sputter and spit before scurrying out of the room. The rest of the residents are fully immersed in the surgery they're performing, but Neil is desperate for something else to think about because _fuck this is really gross_ and he sort of figures the others have got the situation under control if he gets a little distracted. So he throws himself into the mystery of what just happened and imagines all different kinds of things that could have made Dr. Palmer react that way. Like, maybe she just told him that his evil plan to take over the world just failed, or something. Probably not, but maybe.

Out of all the scenarios, however, Neil would never have guessed what actually happened. Given that they aren't actual doctors yet, residents are pretty much treated like slaves - little to no pay, no recognition, insane hours. He's accepted all of this, which makes it all the more surprising that when the surgery ends, Palmer clears his throat and sneers, "Perry. Someone to see you in the front lobby. It's urgent, apparently."

A little shocked, Neil does his best to ignore the envious glares of his peers. He doesn't know who could be asking for him; he has no friends in the city (well, not really) and his parents wouldn't leave Vermont to see him unless something had gone horribly wrong. _Has_ something gone horribly wrong?

He's only slightly relieved to see Charlie Dalton sprawled on a chair in the lobby, wiggling his eyebrows at a staring teenager and smirking deviously. It's not that he's unwelcome or anything, Neil just has a feeling that whatever Charlie came to say is something he really doesn't want to discuss at the moment. Still, it's better than slicing open yet another stranger.

"Dr. Perry! Just the person I wanted to see."

"I'm not a doctor yet, Charlie," Neil mutters, but he's immediately waved off.

"Walk with me, Neil."

"I have work to do. And, wait - why aren't you at _your_ job?"

"I'm sick," Charlie shrugs. "Now, walk with me."

"I can't - "

"Jesus Christ, Neil. I'm willing to bet you're a pretty crap surgeon, plus I slipped that nice lady over there a few hundred bucks. I think they'll cope if you go out for a stroll."

So Neil follows his friend (ex-friend?) out dutifully, not really surprised at his excess. That's just the type of person Nuwanda is; he acts confidently and boldly, somehow fooling everyone else into thinking he's someone worth listening to.

"You know, Neil, when I imagined what you were doing with your life, I never thought you'd do something as pathetic as become a doctor. Honestly."

"God, shut up, will you, Charlie?"

"Hey, that was a compliment. It means I thought you actually had a pair of balls. Unfortunately, it's now become clear that you are actually far more interested in kissing your dad's ass than actually living."

That really pisses Neil off, because it's not fair for him to say something like that, honestly. Out of everyone, even Todd, Charlie knows that best what the elder Mr. Perry is like because he's lived with his very own version. He should get that there's nothing that can really be done in that kind of dynamic other than going along with it; after all, it's not like he's done anything spectacular, either.

 

"As if you'd ever stand up to your father," he scoffs bitterly.

"You know, Todd had the same quibble when I told him my plan to un-brainwash you." Neil feels a little pathetic at how much he feels like a teenage girl when he hears Todd's name. Suddenly all he can think is that he was talking about him and thinking about him, and it's humiliating. "But I'm gonna tell you what I told him," Charlie continues, thankfully ignoring his blush. "I can bullshit my job like I could bullshit Nolan. You, on the other hand, have to dedicate your life to it. There's a difference." For a moment, he's unusually serious, and then he says, "Besides, Neil. You're better than me. That's how this works. You were always supposed to be the hero-type."

Neil doesn't know how to respond to that. He doesn't 100% agree, partly because Charlie's always been brave and partly because he's not conceited enough to admit that he's any better than anybody else. But, to a certain extent, he gets where this all is coming from. He'd had such big plans for himself: actual, concrete courses of action, whereas Charlie floated along, committing small acts in the name of the Dead Poets Society but never putting it all together.

Eventually, he decides to ignore the comment altogether and shift the focus to someone else: Todd.

"How is it that, out of all of us, _Todd's_ the one who fought for what he wanted?" Charlie half-smirks, half-laughs.

"Oh, that's easy. A long, long time ago, at a place called Hell-ton, Todd Anderson grew a pair and stood up on his desk in the middle of Nolan's class to say goodbye to Mr. Keating."

 _"What?"_ Neil has no idea how he hasn't been told this story yet because it seems totally remarkable, even more so when Charlie tells him the small details, like how he himself had just gotten expelled and how Nolan was threatening to do the same to Todd. It's unclear how he avoided that fate, but Charlie has an answer for that, too.

"Anyways, Nolan decided that Keating had corrupted _everyone,_ not just you and me, and you can't expel _everyone,_ so he brought in some shrinks to undo all the damage. Of course Todd couldn't say shit to 'em without hyperventilating, so they decided he was just nuts and his parents thought if they said anything to him he'd totally crack. So nobody at school or anything bothered him about anything and now he pretty much does what he wants."

It's a pretty poor reflection on his life that Neil is actually slightly jealous of Todd for being written off as unstable. Of course, he's outraged and everything, too, but at least crazy (or supposedly crazy) people don't have any responsibility.

"And Todd doesn't mind that?" he asks, gradually getting worried for his old roommate's (but he was more than that, surely) state of mind.

"After all this time, you're still obsessed with him, aren't you?"

"What?" Neil sputters. When he and Todd were whatever they were, they didn't tell anyone about it, not even the guys in the Society. It wasn't really that it was a secret; it was more that stuff like that wasn't (and isn't) done, and they didn't want to make anybody uncomfortable. At least, that's how Neil looked at it - Todd might have felt differently. Anyways, they certainly didn't tell Charlie, and he never let on that he knew anything, so his sly smile doesn't exactly make sense.

"You know, for an actor, it's really embarrassing how transparent you are. Seriously. I'm surprised Nolan didn't expel you two queers himself."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Charlie."

"Oh, I _definitely_ do. 'The God of Love, if such a thing there be, may learn to love from me,' remember?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Neil spits, a little uneasily. Charile's full-on grinning now, proud of how squirmy he's made his friend.

"Whatever you say," he coos mockingly, gesturing to the doors of the hospital, which they've somehow circled back to. He yells other, weirdly threatening fragments out as he walks away, all of which Neil washes out of his brain promptly, returning to Palmer and his true peers instead of thinking it through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, a very obvious note that is nevertheless important: clearly Todd is not actually crazy. Rather, I think, like most people, that Todd has some type of anxiety disorder, and I probably like him so much because I do, too. Anyways, if it seems like that part of him has been erased at all, please know that his friends have not 'cured' him, and it's still a very big part of his life!! I think it's extremely important to realize that these disorders don't just leave, as much as one can live a perfectly happy, 'normal' life with them. It will be playing a larger role later in the story, as soon as I figure out how to write about it without feeling slightly embarrassed and self-pitying.


	9. viii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visit takes a turn for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!

Scott's a real asshole sometimes. Todd's not surprised, and he has no reason to be, either; he's known this about his friend since freshman year. But it's frustrating, all the same, when he's one of his "moods," as the rest of the staff  - well, they're not _staff_ exactly; that makes them sounds like they're butlers or something - at Carpe Diem have taken to calling the frustrating frequent tantrums he throws.

"Dear Jesus," he seethes, clutching a sample of the next edition of the magazine. "Did it never cross ANYONE'S mind that half this article is missing commas?" The writers and editors squirm uncomfortably while Todd studies a pattern of cracks in the concrete wall. He's never been one for confrontation and, besides, he knows that Scott will only be further enraged if he intervenes now. Might as well wait until later to bring it up.

"Really? None of you have anything to say about that? None of you thought there was any problem?"

"Clearly they didn't, Scott," Todd mutters, making the questionable decision to take one for the team. Scott shoots him an appalled glare. The thing about their friendship is, while it's great and all, they met back when Todd still struggled to say two words to someone. So Scott got this idea that he would go along with all his plans and, being a control freak, Scott really, really liked that, and now that things have changed, it adds another layer of tension.

"Anderson, are you trying to say that this doesn't bother you?" he hisses. Todd rolls his eyes and pretends the public confrontation doesn't make him uncomfortable.

"It can be fixed," he shrugs simply.   
  
Scott frowns like he's thinking about saying something like, _we'll talk about this later,_ but eventually waves his hand dismissively. It's frustrating how he acts like this whole thing is _his_ and _he_ is the one that gets to say when things are over or not, considering Todd was really the driving force behind this whole thing. He came up with the concept and the name and just about everything. All Scott had was some vague urge to do something out of the box and cement his reputation as a real free-thinker. Again, this all goes unsaid for the usual reason: bringing it up would involve drama and fights, which would detract from the paper as a whole. Of course, there's also the fact that the thought of being the one to disrupt the relatively okay status quo practically gives Todd hives.

The contributors (this, Todd decides, is a more fitting term than 'workers') gradually disperse as he and Scott briefly go over the changes they each want made. Todd also semi-passive aggressively mentions how he wants to have a better relationship with a lot of the people who work on the magazine, and not feel like he's their boss. The hint, presumably, is not taken, but he tells himself he tried and heads home.

The walk is peaceful but boiling - New York in summer is always scorching. Add in the body heat from the crush of people on the streets and the various fumes leaking out of cars, and it's brutal. By the time he reaches his apartment, Todd is ready to give the inventor of air conditioning a million bucks.

Not surprisingly, Knox is loitering in the hall. Not only does he have a tendency to lose his keys, he often gets bored when alone and goes to await Todd's return. Today, though, something's different. He's wringing his hands and bouncing nervously on his feet, freezing when he sees Todd.

"Todd, uh, we've got a situation," he begins.

"And what would that be?" Todd asks it in a kind of teasing way, hoping it will break the tension at least a little bit. Knox continues his fretting.

"Well, it's like, I was inside, and the doorbell rang, so I thought it was Charlie or someone, so I got it, and, well, it's not Charlie."

"Who was it?"   
  
Todd feels nervous only because that's the kind of energy surrounding him, or at least that's how he justifies his newly sweaty palms and dry mouth. It's a typical Knox move to overreact like this, he thinks. That's until the door opens and a painfully familiar man in a pristine army uniform pokes his head out to say, "Is that my little brother?"

Todd can't breathe. He literally can't breathe. His throat is closing and everything is faster. Sure, he may be going through the motions of inhaling and exhaling, but that's all it is, because the breaths are so shallow and he's not getting anything out of them. His brain is simultaneously too fast and too slow, like he has a million things to say and nothing at all. It's not just his face that feels flushed, it's the whole atmosphere, in a way, and Jeff puts a hand on his shoulder like he would when this happened when they were little kids, but Todd also knows that that hand is not supposed to be there, it's supposed to Vietnam, so while it brings him back into the world around him, it doesn't help.

"Want some water, Todd?" Knox suggests awkwardly, because he doesn't quite know what's going on but it seems like the thing to do. At a nod from Todd, the three of them head inside (one more shakily than the others) and Jeffrey pushes his little brother into a chair. Knox gets some cold water, which really does help, and promptly disappears into his room, where he will still be forced to listen to every personal detail they're saying, but at least it won't be so obvious and uncomfortable.

"I'm on leave," Jeff explains slowly, as if Todd, like a child, has spontaneously lost the ability to comprehend all human speech unless it is spoken very carefully. It's annoying as hell but not entirely unnecessary, because Todd's mind is still whirring and he's not sure if could process even the simplest of things properly. "My flight landed at JFK and I wanted to surprise you before I go home."

Todd doesn't know how he feels about that. Obviously, it's nice to know his brother prioritized him, but his kid probably needs (and wants) to see him more, as does his wife. That's not to mention the moral obligation to give Jeffrey the cold shoulder until he realizes how unethical and wrong the whole war is.

"You... you still think all this in Vietnam is right?" Todd tests, voice still wobbly. Jeffrey nods solemnly and Todd immediately tenses. "I- I can't believe you can justify killing _kids_ to yourself."

"Oh, come on, Todd," Jeff snaps, suddenly testy. "That's not it's all about, and you know it. That's just what all your hippie friends want you to think."

"I've seen pictures, Jeff! You - you can't _honestly_ believe that - "

"What I _believe_ is that I have a duty to protect my family, and if that means going to war, then so be it."

"How are you protecting your family when they're alone at Mom and Dad's with no money or dad - "

"God, Todd, what makes you think _I_ should be taking life advice from _you,_ anyway?"

In the other room, Knox whistles lowly in reaction. Todd's whole brain sort of stumbles, partly because he has no good answer to that - regardless of his personal happiness, his life isn't the most put together or logical by any means. There's also a certain level of disappointment that Jeff would say something like that, because he used to be the one to tell their dad to stop pushing or get their mom to stop fussing. Things have changed, obviously, and Todd knows they're not on the best of terms, but he still never expected this.

"Look, Todd," Jeff sighs. "All I meant was that we're really, really different people, and, well, I know how to make the best decisions for myself, okay?"

"I know you all think I'm nuts," Todd says haltingly. His throat is tight so the words come out warped and gargly, but the message is still clear.

"Really? Are we gonna do this now?" Jeff groans.

"No, I - I know you think it, but, I, I'm not crazy, it's just..." He trails off, unable to put the words into place and convinced they wouldn't describe his true feelings anyway. Jeff arches an eyebrow.

"It's just _what,_ Todd?" he prompts condescendingly. Todd's mouth opens and closes but as usual, nothing of any real meaning comes out. Jeff lets him sputter for a moment before nodding and saying, "Yeah, alright. You know, I probably better go. I think you're maybe not ready to talk about this, and I don't want to upset you." He stands up and ruffles Todd's hair, a simple act which fills Todd with righteous rage. He's not a kid and he's not crazy and he could talk about this, he's ready to, he just... can't.

 _"F-fuck_ you, Jeff!" he spits at the last minute. "I- I mean it, just... _fuck you."_ It's weak but it's the best he can do and at least it's something. His brother smiles patronizingly, like, _Oh, Todd,_ and picks up his suitcase.

"See you later, little brother."

Like that, he's gone. Todd kicks the leg of the table and curses fluidly because, _God, that hurts._ Knox ventures into the common area of the apartment cautiously and grimaces. "You okay, Todd?" he asks. Todd doesn't respond, instead retreating into his room and slamming the door, trying his best not to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, not the happiest note to end on before Christmas... Btw, if it seems like the plot's kind of disjointed and random, that's because it is. I've said it before but there's pretty much no plan for this story, so I'm kind of just seeing where it goes. Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter and Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, New Years', whatever holiday you celebrate. I know I'm late on Hanukkah, so sorry about that... 
> 
> I sincerely hope the holidays treat you well and aren't too stressful, although I know they can be. Stay strong if anything happens and feel free to inbox me on tumblr, here, etc. if you feel like you need to talk to someone!


	10. ix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air gets cleared. (That's not necessarily a good thing.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, I'm alive! It's been forever, so forgive me if this is a little ooc. I tried though! There's also more slightly Meeks in here, because he's important to me. (Bonus points if you can see the very tiny seeds I'm planting for some Meeks/Charlie action...)

The girl is really sweet, honestly. She twirls her brown hair around her finger while she asks and bites her lip in a way where Neil can't tell if she's being shy or trying to appear as shy. Either way, it's cute, but only like puppies are cute. They're adorable and fluffy, but Neil still doesn't want to go out with them.

(He tries not to be disappointed in himself when he tells her honestly that he thinks it's better if they just stay friends.)

Anyways, it's not like he could go out with her tonight, even if he wanted to. Charlie, who's apparently taken it upon himself to be his personal guru, called him last night to inform him that they would be getting drunk that night and having a nice little chat about Neil's future, an offer he couldn't refuse even if he wanted to. Besides, she works at the hospital, and everyone knows that relationships with coworkers are messy and should generally be avoided. All in all, Neil has some solid reasons to turn down her invitation, and that's not even counting the fact that he's gay.

His mind shorts out a little bit when he thinks that. It's not that it's anything new; he's known it for ages, really. Even now, though, it always kind of throws him off. In a lot of ways, it's like a big, blinking road sign, reminding him that this life of his is nothing but a dead end. So he can make it through his residency, become a real doctor, please his parents - the struggle won't end there. Either he'll find it too impossible to fake attraction to a girl and his secret will tumble out, rendering all of his efforts futile, or he'll be completely, totally miserable, even more so than he is now. He pictures himself in a nice, suburban neighborhood, sneaking out of the house after his wife and kids have gone to sleep and searching for some empty hook up. In his mind, he imagines it getting harder and harder to hide over time, sees himself leering at random guy's asses on the subway like a creep, all because he can't be honest. It makes his skin crawl to think about, especially when that seems more and more likely everyday.

In a way, he figures that whatever Charlie has planned for tonight will provide a welcome distraction. Yet, as much as he looks forward to that, he also dreads it. It's fun to see his old friends in the moment, when he's actually joking and laughing with them, but, in the long run, it's just another reminder of what he's given up. It leads him back to where he started: questioning his path and reviewing each of his regrets in agonizing detail. If Todd's there, it will be even worse, too. Neil loved all of his friends at Welton and still does, but it's plain stupid to act like Todd wasn't something different. Especially now, when he makes these little, soft comments that cut to the core of the issue far more effectively than Charlie's aggressive arguments. In fact, if anyone, Neil thinks Todd could break him out of this miserable pattern - at times, he almost hopes he will.

* * * * * * * * * 

Unexpectedly, when Neil opens the door that night, he finds Meeks on the other side, looking half annoyed and half nervous. He bobs from foot to foot until Neil steps into the hallway, when he says, "Look, sorry about all this. Frankly, I think it's a bit dramatic myself, but I've been overruled." Neil is only slightly terrified when he thinks what Steven could be preemptively apologizing for.

"Where's Charlie?" he manages to ask through a growing sense of fear.

"He had some work function that went a little late, so we're swinging by to 'rescue' him, as he puts it. Todd and Knox are meeting us at some bar, I think."

"And then...?" Steven looks at him sort of pityingly.

"It's Charlie," he says, like that should make it obvious. When Neil shows no signs of understanding, he sighs. "No one can tell what goes on in that guy's mind, okay? None of us have a clue. I'm just here to make sure he doesn't make you do anything illegal."

Part of Neil feels like he should be running in the other direction right about now, but a bigger part can't help being curious. What could Charlie possibly have planned? Plus, his other option for the night is watching The Twilight Zone marathon until he falls asleep, which can't be much better than whatever is about to happen. So he finds himself following Steven, who seems like he knows exactly how to get to Charlie's office, like he's done this walk a million times, despite his seeming disapproval of the other man's schemes. It's unclear what this means, but Neil files the information away all the same.

Getting Charlie is a bit of a blur, since Neil lets Steven do all the talking. All he knows is that his ginger friend gets the frigid-looking secretary to make some calls and, in what seems like no time at all, Charlie is sidling over, looking every bit the typical banker in his suit and tie.

"Cousin Robbie!" he proclaims once he's about five yards away. "What brings you here? Not Grandpa, I hope?" Steven makes a big show of nodding glumly and Charlie's face crumples on cue. "Oh, dear!" He turns to the secretary frantically. "I really ought to go see him, you see. You understand, don't you? Thanks, Liz. You're a doll. Tell the others where I've gone, please!"

Charlie wiggles his fingers and strides purposefully out the door, catching onto Neil in the process and dragging him along. His trademark smirk creeps onto his face with every step until he's practically grinning.

"How many grandparents do they think you _have,_ Charlie?" Meeks asks, confirming the suspicion that they've had more than a little practice at that routine. Charlie shrugs.

"It's not like any of them know how to count, anyway."

"They're _bankers,_ Charlie."

"Exactly," he winks. "And anyways, we're not here to discuss _my_ questionable decisions, are we, Steven?" Meeks rolls his eyes fondly and turns to Neil.

"He's being dramatic, as usual. We don't think your life choices are questionable."

"Of course not; they're just dumb! Nothing to question there," Charlie interjects.

Neil grits his teeth. Although he was warned this would happen, he somehow assumed it would happen a bit later on in the night, when he'd had a few beers and was actually ready to have that conversation. Now that he's sober, he can't really let himself get anything out of it. Instead, he just feels annoyed and defensive. He may have betrayed the spirit of the Dead Poets Society, but he thinks it's pretty understandable, given the circumstances. He would hardly reduce his entire life path to just _dumb._ Before he can voice his many objections to Charlie's commentary, they arrive at a run-down bar, and he is shepherded inside and thrown onto a stool.

Steven thrusts a much-needed beer in his hands immediately and plops down next to Charlie, who's sitting what might be considered weirdly close to Neil. Of course, it never even occurs to Neil that the proximity is awkward, having known him so long. It _does_ occur to him that Steven could have just sat next to him on his other side. He realizes thinking something like that might be a tiny bit self-centered, but he was under the impression this whole gathering was about him. The obvious conclusion there is that the seat beside him is being saved for someone specific, someone they think must be _special_ , and that would mean that Charlie would have told the others his theory about Neil and Todd, or that the others knew on their own. Neil's not sure which possibility is more frightening.

Mercifully, Meeks and Charlie make small talk for the next few minutes rather than bringing up the job situation. Steven throws out some science terms that Neil probably should know, considering he's a doctor, but they all fly straight over his head. Charlie, on the other hand, lists everyone in his office from most to least "fuck-able," men and women both included. Neil would take a second to process that, but as soon as it's said Charlie is standing up, arms upraised in greeting.

"If it isn't the happy couple!" Charlie yells as Knox and Todd weave over to the bar. Neil knows Charlie doesn't miss the way he chokes on his beer when he refers to them as a couple. It's an uncontrollable reaction, though. He wouldn't be able to do anything about it, of course, and it's absolutely ridiculous that he still cares, but Neil genuinely doesn't know how he would cope if he found out Todd was in a relationship.

"I'm really not in the mood, Charlie," Todd growls, earning some taken aback looks from his friends. Knox hovers close behind him like the nurses at the hospital watch over recovering patients.

"Todd's had a bit of a rough day," he explains. As Todd sits, he mouths pretty conspicuously _'panic attack'_ over his head. Instinctively, Neil is overcome with concern. He has flashbacks to coaxing him out of attacks in their dorm at Welton, how scary and serious it always was. The others, however, seem to stay calm, and that's probably a better course of action than freaking out, based on Neil's doctor training.

"Clearly." Charlie's got both eyebrows raised as he appraises the quieter man. "What's got your panties in such a twist, Anderson?" When there's no immediate response, Knox opens his mouth to answer, only to remember his manners and shut it a few seconds later. As a result, everyone's left waiting in suspense while Todd sighs and works himself up to respond.

"My brother stopped by today," he finally grunts and there's a collective wince. Once again, Neil is reminded how much he's missed in his friends' lives. Back when he knew Todd, he and Jeffrey were fairly close. Not best friends by any means, but Todd always talked about his big brother like a sort of protector from his parents' judgment. Obviously, things have changed since then.

"I take it things didn't go well?" Meeks infers. Todd's lip curls. _This_ Neil does remember. It wasn't easy to make Todd genuinely angry when they were in high school, but as his roommate, Neil always heard when he had a problem with something. Despite his timidness, Todd could get pretty aggressive when something rubbed him the wrong way, at least among friends. Around strangers, it usually translated into even more debilitating anxiety. It's kind of bittersweet to know that the other get to hear those rants now, although it's an odd comfort that he's still comfortable enough around Neil to vent.

"He's- he's worse than my parents, honestly," Todd spits, still stumbling over his words a little. "He shows up to _my_ apartment out of- out of _nowhere_ and he- _God,_ he acts like, like _I'm_ the one who's shooting kids for a fucking job; it's, it's _disgusting."_

"Wait, is he in Vietnam?" Neil can't help but ask. Todd nods.

"Volunteered," he sneers bitterly, taking a swig from a beer that seems to have magically appeared in front of him.

"Like his fellow hippies, Todd has a pretty major problem with the army these days," Charlie drawls.

"You know, it's not even that," Todd starts again. "If, if that's what Jeff wants to do, _fine._ Just how- how can _he_ judge _me,_ like that? He lost the right to say shit about my life when he signed up."

Neil feels words bubbling in his throat and he's not sure why he wants to say what he's about to say. He's not drunk, not off of one beer, but it's possible that being around everyone again has got him feeling a little buzzed, he supposes. And he remembers how Todd used to push back whenever he'd get all frantically upset like this, how Todd was always the voice of reason when they were at Welton, and he wants to be able to return that favor now. It doesn't help that he's felt the sting of Todd's judgment lately, too, albeit not to the extent Jeffery apparently has. So all of a sudden, he's speaking, and that's when everything starts going to shit.

"Wouldn't he say the same thing about you, though?" Neil points out. "That you can't judge him if you're gonna do what you do?" He knows that everyone is gaping at him, but he's having trouble focusing on anyone except Todd, whose jaw is hanging limply open.

"What?" There's just as much chatter around them as there had been before, so there's really no explanation for how it seems so silent, right then. Neil refuses to back down, though.

"I'm just saying, if _he_ thinks it's right, then he might think _you're_ the horrible one for _not_ volunteering, is all." Although it comes out a lot harsher than it's meant, Neil thinks the comment is fair. He thinks Todd probably would say so as well if he hadn't been a) furious and b) just coming down from a panic attack. As it is, he visibly stiffens and clenches his fists.

"So the new you is okay with _murder,_ now?" he challenges, almost calmly. Neil is frozen. He honestly does not remember Todd ever looking this fiercely angry with him in high school and it's (semi-surprisingly) a little scary.

"How about another round of drinks," Knox intercedes awkwardly. He's ignored.

"It doesn't sound like he thinks of it as murder," Neil retorts weakly. Todd's face twists in rage.

"You know, you might have made a bunch of shitty choices, Neil, but that doesn't mean you have to defend Jeffery's," he snarls. The tension in the air is suffocating and Neil finally starts to feel anger seeping through his bones. Things have gotten a little _too_ personal, now.

"God, you're all such fucking _hypocrites,"_ he explodes. "All you talk about is no judgment and yet all you've done since I saw you again is make these passive aggressive comments about my life-"

"Sorry we don't want you to rot in unhappiness forever! I'll try not to care so much in the future!" Todd smiles sarcastically. People are starting to look now, and Neil can see Steven going to intervene from the corner of his eye until Charlie stops him.

"I think they need to get some things of their chest," he hears him say.

"Care like you cared when you never even _tried_ to get in touch with me?" This is something Neil knows is illogical and, really, plain stupid, particularly because he's never really thought about it since high school. But now that it's been said out loud, it's seeming more and more true, because it wasn't _just_ on him to get in touch, was it? All this time he's been blaming himself for never looking them up, but did they ever try to reach out to him?

"I don't even know how to respond to that, it's so unfair," Todd sputters. "It's like me pointing out that yours was the first name on that stupid statement,after everything Keating did for you." It's clearly not an accusation, but Neil has to defend himself anyway.

"I had no choice," he seethes and Todd nods.

"Yeah, okay, well, you had a choice to become a doctor, whether you like it or not. No one _made_ you do that, Neil, not even your dad, so you can quit acting like the victim now!"

"Fine, fine!" Neil yells. He doesn't know why he is suddenly so attached to the life he lives, why he's now ready to fight for it, but he figures he has to give it some meaning. This can't all have been for nothing. The arguments he's heard from his father since he was sixteen start dripping from his lips. "This may not be my dream job, but at least I grew up! At least I know I'll have a job for the rest of my life; at least I can _talk_ to my family this way without, without - " (He regrets what he's about to say before he says it.) " - without losing my mind-"

Honestly, he can't even blame Todd for punching him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Hope you don't think that was too ooc, but I think there needed to be some kind of confrontation. There's a lot of feelings here that don't go away. Anyways, I hope you like it regardless of that, and that you forgive me for pulling another disappearing act on you. Now that it's summer, maybe I'll actually make some progress lol. Thanks for sticking by me and please comment!!


End file.
